His Reflection
by scrubso
Summary: Dr. Cox is a victim of a vengeful crime and faces the most difficult challenge of his life. Will his friends be able to help him? Will he let them? Set in alternating POV. Chapter 9 up! JD's POV.
1. Janitor

Janitor

There is something special about the early morning shift. The calm, the quiet, the peace, and most importantly there's pretty much nothing to do. Needless to say I love it. I strolled into the bathroom on the fourth floor and I was a bit surprised to find the door jammed, and that's when I spotted gelled haired doctor and his friend.

"Hey idiot! Help me open this door"

They ignored me which wasn't surprising.

"Fine I'll open it myself"

After a few minutes I managed to open the door and as I flicked on lights in the dark, deserted bathroom, I first noticed the overturned trashcan, then the broken mirror, and then a body lying on the floor.

"Idiot! Surgeon friend! Someone's hurt"

They ignored me again.

"I'm not joking, someone's really hurt!"

Maybe because they heard the genuine in panic in my voice or maybe because for once I wasn't trying to mess with them, but luckily they followed me, because someone was really hurt.


	2. Turk

Turk

JD and I followed the Janitor into the bathroom and both of us couldn't help but gasp. Lying on the floor was an unconscious Dr. Cox.

JD didn't hesitate as he quickly whipped his stethoscope off his neck and got into doctor mode.

"Janitor, track down a gurney, some gauze and an extra pair of hands. Turk call upstairs and give them a heads up. His pulse is low and breathing is labored. What in the world happened?" JD thought out loud.

And I was thinking the same thing.

In med-school they teach you all the medical disciplines, one of them being emergency medicine, but once you specialize, you really sort of forget all you learn. As a surgeon, you have even less experience dealing with day to day medicine.

But even I could tell that Cox didn't look good.

It was obvious that someone beat him up pretty good. His lab coat was ripped, his face and scrubs were both drenched in blood, both eyes were blackened; not to mention the numerous other bruises which covered his face.

The Janitor did his duty, and in no time doctors and nurses pilled in.

"I want him upstairs as quick as possible. Nurse start a line, as soon as we get upstairs I want him on a monitor and oxygen, you got that!"

The gurney was wheeled and was placed next to Dr. Cox.

"Okay people, on three raise him gently up. One, two, three."

As we raised Dr. Cox up, he grunted in pain.

"Hang on sir" JD said softly.

As JD kept on barking orders, I couldn't help but feel pride at how well he was handling the situation, considering the circumstances and who it was. I didn't want to dwell on what JD must be thinking. But in truth, I shouldn't be surprised with his behavior, because after all he is a good doctor.

"JD are we taking him to the ER?" I asked.

"No" by the look in his eyes I understood; "he's my patient".


	3. JD

JD POV

A concerned Carla greeted us in the ICU.

"What happened?"

We didn't have time for questions right now, and Carla understood why I didn't answer. For one thing we had no idea what really happened, and most importantly we had to get Dr. Cox stable.

To protect his privacy I wanted him in a private room and thank g-d there was one available. We wheeled Dr Cox into room 136 and gently slid him off the gurney and into bed.

I immediately put him on oxygen because his breathing was unsteady and at times labored. It was a procedure I have done countless times, but it was strange to do it to someone you know.

As I put the nose cannula in place, Carla started an IV line. Polly, one of the staff's new nurses stood over Dr Cox looking very nervous.

"What is it Polly?" Carla asked.

"How should I take off his shirt?"

You had to feel for the new nurse, Dr. Cox is scary when you first meet him, heck he's still scary after you get to know him. So I couldn't help but grin at Polly's predicament. She was scared that when Dr. Cox gets better, he'll go after the nurse who destroyed one of his countless t-shirts.

"Just cut it off" Carla replied

"It's not like he'll miss it"

I could have kicked my self. Here I am caring for a person who is really hurt, an individual whom I respect and admire and all I could do is make stupid comments.

But my guilty thoughts were snapped when Carla and Polly both gasped.

"What is it?"

Carla didn't respond, she just pointed to Dr. Cox's stomach.

I whipped around the bed to see what would cause such alarm, and it took every nerve I had to stop myself for vomiting.

"Page Dr. Kelso"

Large areas of Dr. Cox's chest and abdomen were covered in nasty blue and purple bruises. I could easily count several broken ribs, and when I examine him I'm sure I'll find more. But bruises don't make me nauseas, I've seen so many over the last six year.

But I've never seen something like this.

Written on Dr Cox's bruised body, in big black bold letters was one word:

**MURDERER**

Somebody did this for a reason.


	4. Jordan

Jordan POV

* * *

I got a call early in the morning to come to the hospital for an emergency board meeting. I don't remember ever being asked it to come to an emergency meeting before. The board generally meets every Wednesday, in addition to that, we have meetings to discuss promotions, intern evaluations, and disciplinary actions (Perry's name has come up for that numerous times) those meeting are generally planned way in advance or we are at least given a two day notice.

So understandably I didn't appreciate being woken up early this morning to come to the hospital.

The Sacred Heart board is filled with old geezers who are twenty years my senior; the only reason I'm on it is because my family donated a load of money to the hospital. After my father died, I took his place on the board. The truth is I could care less about the hospital; and while it pains me to admit this, the only reason I took the position so many years ago was to be close to a certain doctor.

So as I am sitting here listening to Bob Kelso drone on and on about safety, lawsuits, and other nonsense, my thoughts drift back to Perry.

_Flashback to earlier that day_

I walked into the hospital in a horrid mood, and was greeted by JD.

"Jordan"

"Hey DJ, you look grim, did your boyfriend just dump you?"

JD ignored the jibe and instead asked, "Did you hear about Dr. Cox?"

"Listen DJ, I was up all night with the baby, I finally had ten minutes of quiet time, with which I can list you a thousand things I'd like to do, one of them is not standing here in this sorry excuse for a hospital talking to you, so forgive me if I could care less about what Perry is doing right now.

"Did no one tell you?" he asked in a surprised tone.

"Tell me what?"

"I just thought you knew, being on the board and all, I mean that's why they called the meeting, I thought you knew"-

"Spill-it nerd"

"Dr. Cox is hurt."

As I walked to the ICU, JD filled me in on what they think might have happened, who found him, what was written on him, etc. I didn't really care that much about all that information, I just wanted to see him; I mean after all how badly could he be hurt?

He looked awful.

He was lying down with eyes closed. His breathing was slow and shallow and he was very very pale. There was a bandage above his left brow; below it, his eye was black. But as bad as his left eye was, his right eye was worse. Along his right check was a nasty purple mark which extended all the way up to his temple, his lips were swollen and bloody, and his right shoulder was in a sling.

But the one bruise that I couldn't seem to take to my eyes off, was the one which ran along the left side of his jaw.

When we were first married, we were in the midst of an argument. I can't remember what it was about, and the truth was, knowing our relationship, it was probably something petty. Nonetheless, in the heat of the argument, I punched Perry and broke his jaw. I didn't even hit him that hard, but as his eyes filled with pain, I knew I crossed the line. But being me, I didn't apologize, I never would, and I never did.

I should have helped him; or at least I should have shown some concern or remorse. But I didn't. Instead I ridiculed him to no end.

Years later his sister came to visit. I don't know why Paige started talking about their childhood, but it interested me a little. Even though I've known Perry for years, I knew close to nothing about his past. I knew his mother died when he was in college, his father died when we were married, and that Perry couldn't care less about either of their deaths.

But even though he never spoke of it, I knew his childhood was rough. He was a bright kid, who worked hard to get good grades; and as soon as he finished high school he took his scholarship, left for college, and never went back home. He then continued to med-school and got accepted to Sacred Heart as an intern. The West-Coast was a perfect fit, because in essence, it was the farthest he could get from his hometown without dropping off the continent.

Well during that visit, Paige told me about an incident that happened when she and Perry were young. According to Paige, whenever their father got enraged the smartest thing to do was to shut-up and hope he doesn't notice you. But Perry didn't do that. He used to defend himself and his sister. Call it bravery, gallantry, or call it stupidity; but that sense of responsibility always got him into trouble.

That time it got him seriously hurt.

A skinny, scrawny, ten-year-old was no match for an adult, and with one brutal upper-cut his father shattered his jaw. Unlike the other abuses that monster bestowed upon him, Perry's jaw never properly healed.

That's why his jaw broke so easily then.

And that's why his jaw was broken now.

I'm not good at giving comfort and thank g-d JD had the decency to leave us alone. I couldn't decide if I should feel angry, troubled, or concerned; but as I sat there next to him holding his hand, stoking his hair, and thinking about his troubled past, only one emotion filled me….

Pity


	5. Kelso

Kelso

What a day!

What a day and it isn't even noon yet. Who knows what other surprises today will bring, as the emergency meeting which I called is about to begin.

The boardroom used to be located on the first floor. About four years ago we moved it up to the fifth floor in a newly refurbished room. It was a charming room. It was covered in taupe wallpaper with a cherry-wood boarder around it. Hanging along the walls were various framed photos and awards. In the center of the room sat a large wooden table, and surrounding the table was sixteen or so chairs, most of which were occupied.

I took my place at the head of the table and observed the scene before me. To my right sat the chairman of the board, an elderly gent with a pocket full of gold. On my right sat Ted popping pills and sweating profusely, and at the far end of the table deep, in her own thoughts, sat Miss Sullivan.

Ah, Jordan Sullivan. Her father donated a lot of money to the hospital; she's a pretty looking lady, but in my mind she is nothing more than a manipulative witch. On occasion we teamed up together to make Perry miserable, but by in large she has stood by him and prevented him from getting fired. My only solace is that she makes him more miserable than I can.

But as much I like seeing Perry miserable, even this was too much.

I can't even count the number of times the board got together to discuss Perry Cox. He's a young maverick who does whatever the heck he wants and it drives me crazy. He'll break every rule and ignore every protocol just because he feels like it.

If he wasn't such talented doctor I would have been able to toss him to another hospital years ago. But he _is_ a good doctor, many will go as far to say that he is a great doctor, and even I will reluctantly admit that he is the best doctor on the staff.

Our relationship has always been a dysfunctional one. Perry began here as an intern while I was Residency Director. Even then he was an arrogant idiot. Interns are usually insecure little baby docs, and he came in giving off the impression that he is g-d's gift to man kind.

I took an instant liking to him.

He looked like the type of person I could use. He was confident, self-assured, poised, and most of all talented.

But I soon realized that he wasn't going to be that man.

Over the last twenty years we have butted head countless times. Being his superior I've managed to make his life miserable, through little acts. Giving him the worst shifts, calling him in on his days off, forcing him to work weekends and holidays, giving him the most annoying and difficult patients, little things to give me an edge over the battle I've had with him for years. He in turn has broken every hospital rule, wrecked equipment, ridiculed me in public, and shown me disrespect.

And while I dislike the man, I also admire him. He's a straight shooter and an honest worker, and that is why I feel sorry for him. Some people can shrug off bad things; Perry won't be able to shrug this off. Now he's unconscious, but when he finds out that someone beat him up as revenge for what they think is an act of murder on his part… well I just wonder if he'll be able to handle it.


	6. Detective March

Detective March

I received a call to go over to Sacred Heart Hospital. Since it is located in my precinct; it is my responsibility to find out who committed the crime. When a call comes into 911, the regular cops are the first to respond. Their job is to secure the crime scene till the forensic squad comes to gather evidence. After that I'm called.

After fifteen years on the force, I've seen my fare share of murders, robberies, and assaults. Over time I've become jaded like all the other cops, and like all other cases this was no different than the hundreds I've worked on before.

When a crime is committed the first twenty four hours are critical for the investigation. It is during that time that one has to gather evidence, speak to witnesses, and contemplate hypotheses. So at 7:30 in the morning I walked into Sacred Heart. Luckily, I've only been in the hospital a handful times, the most recent was a few years back when a fellow officer was hurt in a high-speed chase.

I met my lieutenant who briefed me as we quickly made our way up to the fourth floor bathroom. The officers did a good a job on the scene; they gathered evidence, took pictures, dusted for fingerprints, and compiled a list of witnesses for me to interview. The first person I spoke to the Chief of Medicine, Bob Kelso. I asked him the usual questions: When did he find out? Who told him? Who found Dr Cox? How long have they been working together? How would he describe their relationship? Do any recent deaths stick out in his mind? Etc. When I asked if Doctor Cox has any enemies he gave a most unusual response.

"Perry has many enemies," he started, "the man is an egocentric, big-mouthed idiot; but whoever did this, didn't do it because of the type of person Perry is, because trust me many would like to see him suffer, but this was done as revenge for what he's done as a doctor. You can say what you want about him, but he's a good doctor, and one who I greatly respect."

Dr. Kelso agreed to let me access the hospital's documents, and together we walked to the nurses' station.

"Nurse Espinosa, this is Detective March. He's investigating what happened earlier. You are to help him find whatever he needs" he left and I turned my attention to the nurse in front of me, and I said

"I'll be investigating the assault on Perry Cox, and I'll need your help"

"Sure what ever you need" she eagerly replied.

She started handing me files, starting with his most recent patients. While she rummaged through various filing cabinets we chatted.

"What type of person is Dr. Cox?" I asked her.

"He's okay, sometimes he can act a bit over the top, but other than that he's a really good person"

"Are you friends?"

"Yes, we've know each other for a very long time" She replied. "Do you want his SMMS record?"

"What is a SMMS record?"

"Surgical and Medical Mortality Statistics, it's a record of how many patients a doctor has seen and how many of them have died. It's a big deal in the surgical field but in internal medicine the numbers are pretty obsolete."

"Why?"

"Most internists are seeing the oldest and sickest patients, so no matter how good of a doctor they are the numbers will always be high." "Dr. Cox has pretty good SMMS record" she added.

"Can you remember any cases where patients recently died? Anything that sticks out in your mind at all?"

Her face darkened, as she contemplated whether to tell me something or not. After a few minutes she finally said: "There is one case, but it happened over a year ago. The transplant patients."

She went on to tell me the story. Dr Cox was in charge of three patients in dire need of organs. One needed a liver; one needed a heart valve, and the other a kidney. Meanwhile a former patient of his had passed away from an apparent drug overdose. The patient was depressed, and had tried to commit suicide in the past, thus no one questioned the cause of her death. It turns out she died of rabies. In his defense, Dr Cox didn't test for rabies before harvesting the organs, because it is such a rare disease. Soon after receiving the infected organs each patient died.

"Did he get into trouble?" I asked

"No. No hospital tests for it; it wasn't his fault, and the AMA let it go."

"Was he sued?"

"I don't know for sure, but I doubt it."

"Can I get their records?"

"Sure, let me fish it out for you." She replied.

Nurse Espinosa handed me the files and it was something I would look at when I got home. For now I wanted to interview as many people as possible. The next person I tracked down was the Janitor who found Dr. Cox in the bathroom. I found him by the admissions desk, sitting down, and reading a paper. He struck me as an odd sort of fellow, one where I'm not sure what he says is true or not. I'm not saying that the conversation was boring, because he was quite amusing, it's just I'm not sure how anything he told me was relevant towards solving this case.

During lunch I flipped through some charts and started reading about the transplant patients. Something in the back of my mind stirred, the story seemed familiar, and being that I am a current events junky it was very likely that I came across this story on the news. I decided to drop the chart for now and I would look at it again at home. Fifteen years of experience told to explore all my options, however my instincts told me that what happened last spring and what happened today are connected in some way.

Immediately after lunch I spoke to two more physicians, Dr Elliot Reid-an internist, and Dr. Christopher Turk-a surgeon. Like everyone else they answered my questions and helped me paint a better picture of the type of doctor and man Perry Cox is. Since both treated the patients who died of the infected organs I dropped a line about the transplant patients and both had the same reaction that Nurse Espinosa had.

By six o'clock I had one more doctor left to speak to, Dr John Dorian. Dr Dorian is a thirty-one year old man, but today he looked older than his years. Asking a round, I found out that Dr Dorian is a normally happy-go-lucky kind of guy, who is always ready to pull a practical joke. But as he came closer to my table, I couldn't help but notice that his boyish face was etched with worry and fatigue.

"Tough day huh?" I asked.

"Yep" he replied.

"I'm Detective March" I introduced my self. I'll be working on the case involving today's assault on Doctor Perry Cox" he slightly winced when I said this. "Can I ask some questions?"

"Sure"

"Now you were one of the first responders to the incident, is that correct?"

"Yes"

"Now I heard at first you didn't want to follow the Janitor into the bathroom, why is that?"

He smiled a little and said "the Janitor always tries to mess with me. I figured it was just another one of his jokes"

"What did you think when you first saw him?"

"I didn't think, my instincts took over and I began to treat him"

"Can you tell me what made you decide to take him to the ICU and not the ER?"

"Obligation" he responded. "I don't mean to sound arrogant, but I owe him a lot and I felt I was the best doctor to treat him, and he is my mentor" he added.

Interesting I thought, so I threw out this question "Are you friends?"

"We're not quite friends, we're not quite colleges, and he's technically not my boss, so I'm not sure what we are."

"Doctor Dorian, given the circumstances we're looking for someone who recently lost a family member and that Doctor Cox was the attending physician. Do any recent deaths stick in your mind?

"No"

"Can you tell me about the transplant patients?"

His face darkened, Bingo! I knew that there is more to this story than meets the eye.

He answered my questions and then went on to vehemently defended Dr. Cox's actions. Say what you want about the kid, but he is loyal.

I decided to ask him the one question that had been playing in my head over and over again.

"How did he react to their deaths?"

"It wasn't his fau-"

"I know, but how did he react?"

"He's a doctor, people always die"

I was tired and becoming a little impatient, and I just wanted him to answer the darn question "You know what I'm asking, answer the question!" I said a little too harshly.

"Not well" he finally admitted.

We got up from the table and began to walk to the elevators. I thought of what leads I should follow. While assaults are not prioritized like murders I wanted to solve this case quickly. Tonight I will continue reading through some more charts. While the transplant story interests me, it would be unwise to focus on it, and ignore other possible leads. But my instincts tell me that this was a big deal. It seems that it as truly a black mark on the good doctor's career.

The elevator came and there was one more question I asked Doctor Dorian. "When can I see him?"

"Not yet, he's very weak and heavily sedated" he answered. "Also don't tell him about what was written on him, you know the whole murderer thing." He added.

"Of course I'm telling him"

"He doesn't have to know! At least not yet." He looked me with a very serious face and said. "Listen, he needs to recover and that's all that matters; and I'm telling you, that having this thing hanging over his head is not only going to prevent him from getting better, but it will ruin him. So as his doctor I forbid you from telling him about it."

While I respected his determination, I wasn't going to have some kid tell me how to run my investigation so simply told him

"I'll worry about my job, you worry about your job, and we'll all be fine".

With those words I turned and left. Tomorrow I will speak to the doctor.

* * *

Please reveiw

Sorry I took so long to update. Perry's perspective next!


	7. Dr Cox

**Dr. Cox POV**

Pain. The first thing that registered in my mind was pain.  
Everything hurt. It hurt to move, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to think

I must have made some noise because in no time, I was surrounded by people. All these muffled voices started coming at me, talking to me, trying to comfort me. I attempted to get a look at the people around me but my vision was blurry. I should know these people, but was mind was too disoriented to figure who they were.

The pain was unbearable and I was beginning to get nervous. Okay Perry calm down, think! You're a doctor, stop freaking out and start figuring out what's wrong with you. But I can't, instead I begin to panic, my heart is racing and I can't seem to take deep breaths. I hear the monitor by my side go wild as more and more people fill my room. What is happing to me?

Thankfully, the pain starts to lessen, the room slowly darkens, and the monitor quiets down, and I find my self falling into a drug induced stupor.

* * *

The bright sun which reflects off my crisp white bed sheets gently wakes me. And I once again try to figure out what's the matter with me. Only this time instead of freaking out I'm able to stay calm enough to figure out my status, so through gritted teeth I try to ignore the pain enough to asses my situation 

I'm hurt, that much is obvious. Every breath I take causes a sharp pain to radiate through my chest, that's a definitely a sign of broken ribs, and I have a feeling that more then one of my ribs is broken. The itching in my nose is because of a nose canula, not a good sign; it means I need help breathing, possibly due to a collapsed lung. My vision is blurry, which can be a sign of a concussion, and I assume I lost consciousness, because I have no recollection of getting here. The truth is I have no recollection of much that happened, the last thing I remember was being in the bathroom and all of the sudden the lights went out, literally, the rest is a blur.

I'm not sure how long I was lying there, a few hours, a few days, but each time the same cycle occurred. I wake from my unconscious state, try to speak, or move which causes me utter anguish, someone gives me pain medication, and I fall back into a trance. And so for a while that's how I was. Some times unconscious, some times conscious, And even in my consciousness I was disoriented. How long I was like this I have no idea.

What I did know was that people came in and out of my room constantly. Most of them I recognized Newbie, Carla, Kelso, Gandi, Jordan. There was one person who I did not recognize, a middle aged man who came to visit me everyday.

Today I was finally awake enough to really take in my surroundings. I was in a private room in the ICU. This was a room I know well, having been inside it countless times; but the view is different when you're the one who's the patient. I suddenly became very uncomfortable and I had a feeling I haven't felt in a long time, was it fear? There were several unanswered question sailing through my mind, what happened, how and why. Lucky for me, Newbie had just walked in.

"Dr. Cox you're up, how are you feeling?"

How was I feeling? What a stupid question. I was about to go on a tirade about how I was feeling but as I opened my mouth to speak I realized a long rant would not be a good idea since my jaw killed, as I probably broke it for the fifth time. So I simply asked:

"How long was I out?"

"You were in out of it for three days" he replied

"Status?" Newbie, like a good little student rattled off my injuries, vitals and prognosis. I had several fractured ribs, a dislocated shoulder, a broken jaw, a grade four concussion, countless contusions, a nasty gash above my brow, and topping it all off some internal bleeding and a collapsed lung.

"What happened?" I finally asked

"You got beat up pretty good, we're not sure exactly how long you were out, or when it happened."

"What day is it?" I asked

"Friday afternoon, the Janitor found you Tuesday morning, and you've been in this bed ever since."

All this pain because someone decided to beat the living day lights out of me.

"Why?"

"I don't know, the police are still investigating" he then quickly changed the subject and asked me if I was in pain as he walked around the bed to check my monitor.

"No" I lied

He whipped his stethoscope off his neck and began to examine me. I can't even begin to describe how uncomfortable I felt at that moment. Under normal circumstances I would say something about him being inept or at least glare at him but I didn't have the strength so I just remained silent.

When he examined my shoulder I winced and then quickly plastered a placid look on my face, I don't why but it was very important for me not to seem weak. But Newbie didn't buy the act so he ordered a nearby nurse to give me some pain medication. The nurse came back with some Percocet and a cup of water. She guided the water to my mouth since my motor coordination was a bit off. And while the cold water felt nice against my parched throat, I felt there had to be no bigger shame than needing someone to help you drink?

I then dozed off for sometime, till I heard someone move around my room. I opened my eyes and found Carla hovering above me and looking very concerned. "JD told me you were up, how are you feeling?"

"I've had better days" I muttered.

"I'm sure you have, can I get you anything?

"Some scotch would be nice"

She laughed and said: "Can't do, but I can get you some ice chips and applesauce."

"I'll pass"

"Are you in a lot of pain?" she asked

"No"

"Liar"

The one thing I love about Carla is that she always knows how to read me. Over the years we've developed a close friendship, at work and away from it. She is one of the few people I can confide in. For one thing she doesn't take any of the garbage I throw at everyone else, and I trust her mostly because she's not afraid to look me straight in the eye and tell I'm full of it, or tell me exactly what I need to hear and not what I want to hear. That's why I was a little surprised that she dodged some of the questions I asked her like about what happened to me and what the police thought, she just told me not to worry and just concentrate on getting better.

Jordan told me the same thing when she came to visit, a s did Newbie.

Something wasn't right. They were hiding something.

But what?

* * *

"Dr. Cox, I'm Detective March, I'm investigating what happened this past Tuesday, and I'd like to talk with you a bit" 

The conversation was far from small chat. He bombarded me with countless questions, many of which were personal. I began to feel agitated; I was exhausted and my jaw was hurting from talking too much.

Thankfully, Newbie showed up and asked the detective to leave, which he did.

But he came back the next day. And the next.

Today when he came, he asked me about my three patients that died last year.

"I don't want to talk about it"

"Why not?" he asked

"What's it to you?"

"Dr. Cox I'm suspecting that whoever assaulted you had a motive."

"Which was?"

"Revenge"

"Revenge, why revenge?"

A look of confusion passed over his face at my question "I'm sorry I thought you knew all the detail of what happened that morning. I guess at the end they decided not to tell you."

"Tell me what?" I asked with frustration

The detective proceeded to tell me the _whole _story, and with utter calm he dropped the bomb which shattered my world, as he explained to me what really happened and why. The key word was why.

Someone thought I was a murderer. A murderer

I felt my face grow hot, my ears were ringing, and my heart was threatening to jump out of my chest.

He continued to talk to me but all I could hear was one word. _Murderer_ like a broken record it kept playing over and over in my mind _murderer…murderer_…

"Are you okay?" the detective finally asked

Was I okay? No, how can I be?

I nodded yes to get him to leave me alone and I barely noticed as he got up to leave.

So many emotions were flooding my mind that I couldn't make sense of any of them.

Anger, resentment, bitterness, fear, panic, guilt, shame….betrayal

How could no one tell me?

I suddenly felt very claustrophobic. I desperately needed to get out of this room, out of this tainted place, and out of my blemished soul.

I lowered my bed and placed my unsteady legs on the floor, I was hunched over in pain, but I didn't care, pain was good, pain felt right. I slowly straightened my body and took a few shaky breaths. I disconnected my heart monitor, pulled off my nose canula, and ripped the IV out of my arm. Blood began to drip where the IV was, staining my gown but I didn't care, I just needed to get out, fast.

I was about to start making my out of the room when Satan himself appeared at my door.

"What are you doing?" Newbie asked

I didn't say anything because I didn't trust my self to speak. I glanced at his face and the look in his eyes told me that he understood- that I now know.

"Dr. Cox get back into bed, we can talk about this, okay" he came towards me. I shot him a look that caused him to back down, because if I wasn't going to hurt my self, then I was certainly going to hurt someone. "Just relax, okay you need to relax" he spoke to me with a calm voice like one would speak to a child or a madman.

Or a murderer.

"Perry you're weak, you're body's been through an awful lot, you shouldn't be walking around just yet"

"Don't tell me what I should be doing!" I spat.

"Okay, you're upset, I know, I know" he said desperately trying to calm me down.

"What do you know you worthless, lying coward?!" I roared. I couldn't stop myself; I was so full of rage and hate.

I despised him standing there talking to me with such composure while I was such a mess, it was infuriating. I shouldn't be this way, I shouldn't be showing my emotions like this, I'm not supposed to lose it…I'm bulletproof.

I started toward the doors "Dr. Cox stop you can't go" I cursed him and continued walking towards the door. "You won't make it across the room!" he yelled after me.

I ignored his warning and made it across the room and farther. I walked passed the nurses station, and I was close to the door of the ICU, when I stopped.

It's amazing how far anger can take a man. It can take him beyond what should be physically feasible, it can make him ignore the pain, and it can give him the strength to do the impossible. But adrenaline can only take him so far, and for me, my body had unfortunately reached its breaking point.

The room around me began to spin, my vision darkened, and I felt a light headedness overcome me. As I felt myself begin to fall, I heard the thunderous sound of footsteps on the ground, trying to reach me before I hit the ground. I knew it was Newbie, but he was too late.

One thing became abundantly clear before I passed out; I was in trouble.

TBC

* * *

A/N Sorry it took so long to update. I tried my best to capture his feelings, I hope I did a good job. 


	8. Carla

Carla's POV

He went down like a log.

I was by Mrs. Thorn's bed when I witnessed Dr. Cox crumble to the ground. I dropped what I was doing and hurried to his side, JD was already there.

"What happened?'

"He got out of bed, he knows, and he's pissed."

We raised him onto a gurney and wheeled it back to his room. I then reset everything again, IV, heart monitor. Meanwhile JD, examined him.

"He's stable." JD said.

"What do we do?" I asked.

"We wait."

* * *

We didn't have to wait long; Dr. Cox regained consciousness surprisingly quick. 

He looked around and tried to get up.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Dr Cox, lay back down please" JD begged.

He ignored us and continued to try to get out of bed. JD put his hand on his shoulders trying to hold him down.

"Get your filthy hands off me" he raged as he a shoved JD's arms off him.

"Perry, please relax" but it was useless, he was too worked up, too furious. We tried to get him to calm down but it was no use. He yelled, screamed, kicked, cursed and repeatedly tried to get out of bed despite his weakened state. He ripped out his IV again, threw off his nose canula, and started destroying everything within his reach. I've never seen him like this, so crazed, with his face livid and his eyes so wild.

JD put his hands on him again in attempt to calm him down, and then several things happened at once. Dr Cox with his fist balled up in fury took a swing at JD, who dodged it and with one motion grabbed the wrist and locked it in a restraint.

Dr Cox's red face instantly paled, and with wide eyes he stared at a fearful JD; his face betraying his disbelief. The tension in the room became unbearable as the two adversaries stared at each other. I didn't dare to talk, I barely dared to breathe. And although only a few seconds passed the silence in the room felt eternal, with a quivering voice JD attempted to break it "Dr Cox" he started.

"Get out"

"Look-"

"Get out!" he roared

We both jumped and hurriedly left the room, closing the door behind us.

* * *

My shift was over in a few minutes and I had yet to see Dr. Cox since the fiasco that occurred earlier that day. 

I took a deep breath and entered his room; the anger was still visible on his face.

"Hey."

He ignored me. He didn't seem like he was going to talk any time soon. I suppressed a sigh because I wasn't surprised; his speech is something he controls and right now he wasn't in control of his emotions, today's outburst proved that.

"I have to go home soon, Turk has to be here, do you want to talk before I leave?" I asked "Perry, come on, look at me." I tried to meet his eyes but he averted my gaze .

"I'll come visit as soon as I can, okay? Try to relax."

* * *

I was off for the next thirty-six hours. During that time I did all I could to block Perry out off my mind. I cleaned up the house, played with Izzy, and tried to rest up, but I didn't sleep well and by the time I came to work I was in a sour mood. 

"Carla"

"What" I snapped

"He's refusing all medical treatment" JD said as he approached me by the admission's desk. I right away knew who JD was referring to when he said _he._

We walked together to the ICU where JD filled me in on all that when on during the time I was gone. "He switched me off his service, yelled at anyone who came near his room; he's not eating, probably not sleeping because he hasn't taken painkillers in hours. Kelso sent Hedrik to talk to him –_that_ did not go well, a nurse tried to change his IV bag earlier and he went ballistic; a few hours ago Elliot snuck in there and was able to put on a new IV bag."

"Did you try talking to him?"

JD shook his 'no'.

"Why not?" He didn't answer, "Why not?" I repeated.

"I'm scared."

I let out a sigh "Have his orders been filled out?"

"Yeah, but no one has been able to give him anything."

"I'll do it."

* * *

"Hey" 

His eyes were closed and he was gritting his teeth from pain.

I put on gloves as I approached his bed, ready to give him the order that was written out for him. "You have to be the most stubborn man I ever met."

He noticed the needle I was holding, "You can't give that to me, I refused all medical treatment."

"I changed my mind; you're the dumbest man I ever met."

"Carla I'm serious."

I stepped closer to him and gave him a shot of morphine. A look of shock passed over his haggard features.

"You can get into trouble for that."

"That coming from Mister-I-never-broke-any-rules."

"What do think you're doing?" he yelled.

"Listen, you want to act like a moron, that's fine, but don't expect to be able to intimidate everyone here. You need to rest, you need to eat and you need to let the people here take care of you."

He persisted to argue, however it was useless; he tried in vain to ward off the imminent sleep but the meds were too strong. His speech began to slur as he shot me a few more fleeting glances. The last thing he said to me before he closed his eyes was "How could you?"

I stood by his bed for a while watching his chest rise fall, and letting the guilt wash over me, hoping with all my heart that I did the right thing.

* * *

I walked into his room a few hours later expecting to be bombarded with an array of spiteful comments and snide remarks. Instead, Dr. Cox was sitting up, staring straight ahead; his face a mask, displaying no emotion. 

"How are you feeling?" I carefully asked.

He pretended not to hear me.

"Perry?" I said hoping to get his attention, but he continued to ignore me.

I replaced the IV bag and he didn't protest, he even let me check his blood pressure, and as I took out the thermometer I glanced at his face, his lips were firmly pursed. "Can you open your mouth so I don't have to stick this up your butt?" I joked, he rolled his eyes, but he opened his mouth.

"You're mad I know."

Silence.

"Okay, you're gonna have to talk eventually."

"I have nothing to say, you finished what you came here to do, so you can go." he calmly said.

"Perry, we were just trying to look out for you."

"And doing a mighty fine job I must add." he retorted.

"Don't be like this."

He closed his eyes and said "I'm tired."

"Perry."

"I'm going to sleep now; you can stand there if you'd like."

"We're okay right?" I asked hopefully.

"What do you think?" He said icily.

"We were trying to help you."

"By lying?"

"We were nervous-"

"That I'd act like this" he interrupted unable to keep the venom from his words

I opened my mouth to respond but he cut me off.  
"Pride's a big thing for egomaniacs llike me, you know that Carla. I would have thought you of all people would know not to do this to me; you're supposed to be my friend," he said hoarsely, his voice finally giving way. "I thought I earned a least a shred of respect here after twenty year…what dignity did any of you show me?" I lowered my head in shame as he continued "Priscilla restraining me, you drugging me like I'm some lunatic, like I'm some mur-" the words were on the tip of his tongue I knew they were, I saw the anguish in his eyes which he closed and said "Forget it" before turning his head away.

"I'm sorry, I really am, Perry. I'm really sorry" I croaked.

"Forget it."

The atmosphere in the room was oppressing, what was I supposed to say? Everything he said was true, we messed up.

I took a deep breath and walked closer to his bed; I undid the restraint and pushed the cart where his food lay closer to him, maybe after getting all that off his chest he'd eat. I poured him a glass of water, opened up his food and took the plastic wrapping off his utensils. I still couldn't think of anything to say to him, fumbling around with his food at least gave me something to do. When I finally trusted myself to speak again, I asked "Can I get you anything else?"

He shook his head no.

I started walking out of the room but I stopped at the door and took one last look at him. The light cast miserable shadows over his tortured face, and I truly felt his pain. Not knowing what I was doing, I walked back to his bed and put my arms around him. At first his body was rigid, but then ever so slowly I felt it relax in my arms. I whispered in his ear over and over "I'm sorry…I'm sorry" as I held him in a tight embrace.  
After a few minute I finally let go of him and searched his face and I swear I saw tears threatening to fall. I put my lips on his forehead and whispered, "Can you try to forgive me? I don't want to lose you."

He swallowed hard and nodded.

"And promise me you'll try to get better?"

He nodded again. I gave him one more fleeting hug and squeezed his hand "You're gonna be okay." I said before leaving his room.


	9. JD II

A/N: Sorry for not updating in forever. This chapter has taken me a while to write. I tried to capture JD's feelings about himself as a person and a doctor. I hope I was a little bit on target. The reference JD makes about one of his patients was from Season One: My Tuscaloosa Heart. A big thanks to my wonderful Beta, Therm.

* * *

JD POV

Ever since I've restrained him, Dr Cox has had interns treating him instead of me. I knew why he chose an intern simply because they were all too scared of him and would do exactly what he wants them to, which was leave him alone.

Out of all the interns he could have chosen he at least chose the most competent of them all, Debbie Michaels. She was smart and willing to learn and she seemed like an intern who would progress to be a good doctor. Plus, you didn't have to look over her shoulder constantly to prevent her from killing someone as Attendings have had to do in the past (Doug jumps to my mind).

Still, everything that had to do with Dr Cox was run by me first, procedures, medications, examinations. And so while she technically was his doctor-I monitored his chart.

I wondered if he guessed what I was doing, I wondered if he even cared.

Thanks a lot to Carla his condition has improved a lot in the last week. He's walking again, eating a little bit, and going to psychical therapy sessions on most days. We're hoping to have him go home soon. Once he's there he'll still have to go through a lot more physical therapy, but where he'll do it is up to him, either here in the hospital, or in a private clinic.

Since Dr Cox is a patient now we're short staffed. Kelso divided up his patients but there's still new ones coming in each day and it's sometimes hard to keep up with work. I've found myself here plenty of times after my shift was over just trying to finish up paperwork

Tonight I was working the night shift; I actually don't mind working this shift so much. It is quiet and with most patients sleeping, I have plenty time to catch up on all the paper work I neglected during the day. It's funny when I first started out, paper work consumed my day, but after six years I learned to do it quickly, but being short staffed there just wasn't so much time.

The nurse working the night shift approached me and informed me that she had given Dr Cox his sleeping pill. I decided to take the chance, and check up on him. Even though Debbie was a good intern I wanted to examine him for myself after all she's still a young a doctor and not as experienced as I am.

I gently pushed his door open and quietly crept into his room; it was the first time I was in there since _the_ incident. The room was dark except for the soft glow of various monitors; even though he was stable, hospital policy required that all ICU patients to be hooked on- just the vitals, nothing major: pulse, o2 stat, and blood pressure.

Although the room was virtually dark, I was able to make out the nasty bruises which still covered his face. It's been a couple of weeks since he was assaulted, some of his black and blue marks have turned yellowish-green- a sign they're healing, but some of the bad one were still purple. Even though a blanket covered his sleeping form I was able to tell how much he thinned out. His jaw hasn't fully healed so he still had to survive on liquids and pureed food; great if you're on a diet but counterproductive when you need to heal. Getting him to eat has been difficult but who can blame him? Pudding, jello, and applesauce can get tiresome. Though there was one person who got him to eat. My lips curled into a small smile when I thought about it. Good o'l Jordon, gosh that woman is scary. Every day she comes to visit him with a protein shake or a smoothie, and rumor has it he only tried to refuse her once.

I slipped my stethoscope beneath his gown and listened carefully. His lungs sounded okay like Debbie said, but not as clear as I would hope; tomorrow I'll have her start him on antibiotics.

Just in case.

_

* * *

Two days later_

I was in the ICU examining Mr. Binkley, his kidneys were not doing well and I felt it was time to start dialysis; I walked to the nurses' station to tell Carla to do so. While talking to her I saw Detective March enter the ICU heading straight for Dr Cox's room. Carla and I followed him with our eyes, but neither of us made an attempt to stop him.

After ten minutes I watched from the nursed station as Carla entered the room and made some lame excuse to get the detective to leave. After five more minutes he left the room. As he walked towards the exit of the ICU I stopped him.

"Detective, do me a favor and go easy on him"

"He seems like he's feeling fine, so what's the problem doc?"

"Physically maybe, but emotionally he has a way to go."

"Whose fault is that?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Whose fault is that? Mine? Yours? The guys who beat him up? You want me to be straight with you?"

I didn't reply, not really wanting to hear what he had to say.

"You should have told him" he said. "You should have been honest with him, because he asked you what happened, and he counted on you, and he trusted you."

"That's not what he needed, he needed to heal an-"

"And he's scared to death" the detective continued. "Listen I've seen countless victims and as a doctor so have you. But you don't see him as one and you know why? Because you can't. It made no difference whether he knew or not, but it made it difference to you, you want to blame me that's fine, but you're the one who screwed up, doctor." and with his words still hanging in the air he turned and left the ICU.

* * *

For hours I laid in my bed tossing and turning, what with the detective's words still ringing in my ears. His rant reminded me of those that Dr. Cox tossed my way countless times. I hated the detective, I hated what he had to say, I hated that he read me so easily, and I hated that he was right.

I glanced at the clock once more. I had to get up in a few hours for my shift and it didn't look like I would fall asleep any time soon.

By five o'clock I gave up on sleep and got dressed. I headed to the hospital and grabbed a coffee on my way, still getting there well before my shift.I headed to the deserted doctor's lounge and flopped down on the couch with nothing but my coffee and thoughts keeping me company.

What the heck am I doing? Have I grown up? Have I changed as a doctor? With a whirl wind of questions plaguing my mind, the answer became clear. Dr Cox had become my crutch which I subconsciously learned to lean on. And then I remembered something he told me when I first became an Attending physician.

"_From now on, the buck stops with you. And I know that you have occasionally bent the rules in this dump over the past couple of years, but you only did it because you knew when the crap started raining down it was damn sure gonna fall on my head."_

And he was right, and that had to change.

* * *

My shift was over, but before heading home I entered Dr. Cox's room.

If he was surprised by my boldness he didn't show it as his face remained impassive. Knowing he wouldn't be the one to talk first I began: "When I was an intern I had patient who was a big a jerk. When he died I felt guilty even though he was terminal, I felt guilty because maybe I treated him differently because he was a nasty individual.

"Everyone tried to reassure me that I did nothing wrong that he died because of his illness and not because of my neglect. Yet for days I couldn't sleep. I finally came to you and you told me I screwed up-not because of anything I did, because he was a going to die anyway, but because the way I felt about the patient. I don't know why but I was finally able to sleep".

"You also told me that part of being a good doctor is not repeating the same the mistakes and I've tired not to but I'm not always able to disconnect myself from my patients" I said referring to him. "I came to you then, because whenever self-doubt would flood my mind I needed someone to stop it, and over the years I've been able to need that reassurance less and less, but as much as I've grown I still sometimes needed you to help quell those self doubts.

I walked to his bed. "So whenever you have a chance I have a patient I'd like you to look at." I said while handing him the chart I was holding.

He glanced at it and was bit surprised to see 'Perry Cox' written on it. He held his chart in his hand for a while before letting out a sigh, cocking his head to the side like he always does when he's uncomfortable, and handed me back the chart-unopened.

"You're doing fine there Newbie" he finally said.

"Thank you."

I felt the pressure instantly lift off my shoulder, although I vowed I would be my own doctor I needed his faith one last time. Reassurance is nice and it is even sweeter hearing it from him, even after all these years.

* * *

What do you think? Please review. 


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